


The Master's Lightsaber

by ReneeoftheStars



Series: Teyla Marin and Gida Tiatkin [10]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:52:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReneeoftheStars/pseuds/ReneeoftheStars
Summary: Twelve years after the death of Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas, his former Padawan receives his lightsaber. Now a Jedi Knight, Teyla Marin relives the moment she felt her Master's passing.





	The Master's Lightsaber

**Author's Note:**

> Written for finish-the-clone-wars' Writing Wednesday prompt: Into the Past

Teyla led the way as she and her Padawan strolled through the Temple halls. Gida swung her arms and stretched while they walked, humming absently and bobbing her head, causing her lekku to swing.

“What forms do you feel you need more practice in?” the Pantoran woman asked as they rounded a corner.

Gida considered the question for a moment before offering an answer. “I would like an introduction to form seven, Master Windu’s Vaapad.” Anticipating her master’s protest, she hurried on. “I mean, just the basics. I think it would be a good exercise for me, in terms of channeling emotions. I’m curious as to whether or not it might actually come easier to me – instead of completely ridding myself of emotions during a fight, embracing them.”

Teyla pondered that. It did make a certain kind of sense, she thought, to let an empath actually use their abilities to their advantage. It was all a matter of balance. “I will speak to Master Windu about it. I’ve never studied it myself, so it is not something I can assist you with. He would be the one to give you lessons, if he deems it appropriate.”

“Maybe he could give you lessons too,” Gida said brightly.

The Twi’lek’s smile was contagious. “We’ll see.”

A voice behind them called out, “Master Marin, a moment, if you will.”

Teyla turned towards the approaching Kel Dor and inclined her head. “Master Plo. A pleasure to see you, as always.”

“I only wish I came under more pleasant circumstance.” He paused. “May we speak in private?”

She frowned momentarily, then her expression cleared. “Of course, Master.” She turned to her apprentice, whose brow raised questioningly. “Gida, if you would?”

“Yes, Master.” With a last quizzical look at the two of them, Gida turned and continued towards the sparring rooms.

Teyla waited for Plo Koon to speak. With some surprise, she realized he was uncomfortable; the skin around his mask was taut and his brow was drawn, as though he were frowning; his hands fidgeted behind his back.

With a sigh, he met her eyes. “I have been trying to decide the best way to speak to you about this matter. I regret to say there is no easy way to put it.” He drew his arms from behind him and held out a lightsaber between his talons.

Curious, Teyla took it, examining the simplistic design. Its slender hilt proved to be lighter than the standard lightsaber. She turned it over, feeling familiar grooves along her fingers, the points of the tapered blade emitter shroud –

A wave of nausea swept over her. Her hands seized around the hilt and she couldn’t breathe.

_She was eleven, and her new master – this gruff man with haunted eyes and a tired smile – extended his lightsaber to her. She accepted it hesitantly, never looking away from him. A Jedi never relinquished their lightsaber, not to anyone – so why was he letting her hold it? The tall man knelt down so they were eye-to-eye, and he explained that it was an offering, a truce, a promise that he would treat her as his equal. That he would share everything with her, that there would be no secrets between them. She was honored._

The moment passed and she found herself in front of Master Plo again, hands trembling as she clutched Sifo-Dyas’s lightsaber to her.

“Where?” she managed. “How?”

“I found it on a crashed T-6 shuttle on a moon above Oba Diah.”

“Oba Diah? No, no, Master Sifo-Dyas was killed on Felucia. How could this have ended up there?”

“As we have discovered, Count Dooku paid the Pyke Syndicate to kill your former master. They shot him down while he was en route.”

“Dooku –” Teyla sucked in a calming breath, trying to get ahold of her reeling emotions. _Dooku was his closest friend. And he betrayed him._ “We had confirmation. How could he have been shot down on Oba Diah, only to end up on Felucia?

Again, Plo Koon paused. “We believe Count Dooku moved Sifo-Dyas’s body to disguise the fact that it had been an assassination. Dooku presented the Felucians the body, and they cremated it.”

 _So you finally found out what happened to the body._ She bit back the comment; it was churlish, angry, and she winced internally. She had been so angry when she discovered that Sifo-Dyas had not been found, and that a more intensive search was not underway. A faithful servant of the Republic his entire life, he deserved to be laid to rest at the Temple, and her blood had boiled when she thought of his body carelessly tossed into some ditch.

She had hoped she’d moved past these thoughts, these memories, but they resurfaced after years of being forced down, pushing their way into her consciousness and overwhelming her.

*

_She was eighteen, sparring with another Padawan in the training rooms. Their lightsabers blurred as they danced around each other, feinting and striking and blocking. The Weequay’s blade hummed in a deadly arc towards her head, and she ducked out of its way, squatting and swinging a foot at him. She caught him and he fell to one knee, barely brining his lightsaber up in time to block her yellow blade._

_They held there, beams of light crackling as they locked together. They stared at one another as she began to strategize the end of their fight. She knew that if she could get him to shift his weight backwards, she could make him unsteady enough that she might be able to –_

_The Force shuddered around her. It rattled her bones, chilled her blood, choked her. She went rigid, eyes flying wide. Her opponent noticed her lack of concentration and acted. A streak of blue, and her lightsaber went spinning from her grasp. Teyla blinked and found his blade hovering above her neck._

_“You hesitated,” he chided. “If you second-guess yourself, it might be the last decision you ever make.” He deactivated the blade and stepped away. “Better luck next time, Marin,”_

_She couldn’t answer. She felt as though something had been carved out of her center. A name came to mind, paired with a thought that she recoiled from. No. No, she wouldn’t think it. She couldn’t. Pulse quickening, she snatched up her lightsaber and ran from the room, ignoring the Weequay calling out to her._

_She raced through the halls, ducking around surprised Masters and Padawans alike, until she skidded to a stop in front of the Temple’s communication center. A blue hologram winking out behind him, Master Saesee Tiin turned to her._

_“Padawan Marin,” he greeted. “I sense you’re disturbed.”_

_“I need to speak with Master Sifo-Dyas,” she croaked, her voice distant in her own ears._

_The Iktotchi’s expression softened, the look in his eyes somehow upsetting Teyla more than the gaping hole that seemed to be consuming her._

_“Young one,” he said gently._

_“He’s on Felucia,” Teyla continued, ignoring him. “He wanted me to stay here and practice form two.”_

_“Padawan.”_

_“He said it would be a brief mission, that there was no need for me to accompany him.”_

_Saesee Tiin climbed the steps towards her. “I felt it too, Teyla. Not as strongly as you did, I know. But I felt him become one with the Force.”_

_“No. No, you don’t understand…”_

_“I am sorry. Master Sifo-Dyas is dead.”_

*

“Teyla.”

Teyla blinked rapidly, vision clearing. She had fallen to her knees, hands vice-like around her master’s lightsaber. Master Plo knelt before her, one hand on her shoulder. Concern colored his voice as he intoned, “I am sorry to remind you of this pain.”

“I never truly let him go,” she said quietly.

“I know.”

Plo Koon took her arm and helped her to her feet. “Master Yoda was going to have Madam Jocasta add Sifo-Dyas’s lightsaber to those in the Archives. But I asked that you be allowed to keep it.”

Her thumb ran over the ridges of the hilt. It felt comfortable in her grip. “Thank you, Master.”

He gently squeezed her shoulder before turning to leave. Before he’d gone three paces, he paused and turned back. “Master Marin?”

Teyla waited.

“Did Sifo-Dyas ever discuss sensitive matters with Count Dooku?”

Some sense of worry threaded its way into her mind. “Not that I know of. They were always friendly with one another, but I don’t know to what lengths they spoke.” She hesitated. “Why?”

“The Council inquired. I am not at liberty to say more.” He bowed to her, and for once, Teyla did not return it. “Good day, Teyla Marin.” And he strode away.

She stood stock-still for several moments, focusing on her breathing. She hadn’t realized how raw her pain still was, even after all these years. As a Padawan, she hadn’t truly realized that Sifo-Dyas had become a part of her, until the moment he was just – gone. The hole that had opened in his absence had been filled somewhat since she had begun training Gida, but part of her was still missing.

The name of her Padawan had barely left her mind when the young Twi’lek appeared at her side. Her eyes were wide and upset. Far too late, Teyla realized that she had not shielded her emotions from her sensitive apprentice.

“You were in pain,” Gida murmured, as though afraid to speak too loudly. “I was worried so I started to come back. And then…” She fixed her eyes on the old lightsaber. “I saw. I didn’t mean to. But I saw your memories.”

Teyla closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “That is not something you should have had to experience, Padawan. I am sorry. I was careless in maintaining my emotions.”

“Don’t apologize,” Gida said fiercely. She reached out and touched Teyla’s shoulder. “Please, Master, I understand.”

It hurt, but Teyla smiled. Carefully, she clipped Sifo-Dyas’s lightsaber to her belt, hanging it beside her own. She finally had a piece of her Master with her again. The empty space filled in a little more.


End file.
